<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>didn't I see you cryin'? by jpnadia</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023098">didn't I see you cryin'?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpnadia/pseuds/jpnadia'>jpnadia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blazer? I 'ardly know 'er! [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Content Warning: Ianthe Tridentarius, F/F, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:33:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpnadia/pseuds/jpnadia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>That freaky little bone nun shouldn't be allowed to have a love life, unless that love life includes one Ianthe Tridentarius. There's no one else on the planet or otherwhere who can match her for in wits, in panache, in sheer viciousness.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ianthe hates that Harrow has brought her date home to the apartment they share. Well, Harrow will hate that Ianthe is sitting there in the living room, watching.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Blazer? I 'ardly know 'er! [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TLT Kink Meme</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>didn't I see you cryin'?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The TLT kink meme is a gift that keeps on giving. <a href="https://tlt-kink.dreamwidth.org/583.html?thread=11079">OP here</a> requested Gideon in a blazer, with tasteful titty showing. The artist (<a href="https://twitter.com/thylluan">thylluan</a> on Twitter and <a href="https://nhylluan.tumblr.com/">nhylluan</a> on Tumblr) produced <a href="https://imgur.com/a/DZNYxzD">THIS GORGEOUS ART</a>. Seriously, go look at it, I’ll wait.</p><p>Both OP and the artist graciously allowed me to do… this.  </p><p>Setting is deliberately vague. Can be the AU of your choice or post-canon. I leave Harrow’s reasons for consenting to share an apartment with Ianthe as an exercise for the reader.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Cabinets and chests are the same when you open them up in the dark: shadowed interiors with slivers of stacked white to demarcate the height of the cavity. Except you never find a heart in the kitchen cupboards. Ianthe Tridentarius slams the cabinet door shut, and ceramic crashes as the laminate shelves vibrate under the force of the blow. Hearts are best kept in the refrigerator, anyway, when she has them. Today, she's fresh out.</p><p>In the greater scheme of things, hearts don't even matter. Ianthe cares about greater schemes, not hearts. Never hearts.</p><p>The only reason she's banging around in her twilight kitchen is because it's Saturday night, and Harrowhark Nonagesimus has a date. That freaky little bone nun shouldn't be allowed to have a love life, unless that love life includes one Ianthe Tridentarius. There's no one else on the planet or otherwhere who can match her for in wits, in panache, in sheer viciousness. Together, they are a scalpel; together, they'll slice the world in two. She just needs Harrow to recognize her own destiny. It's ridiculous that it's taken this long. They're roommates, and Ianthe is right there in front of her face. These things go a certain way, according to the stories. Ianthe is nothing if not well-read.</p><p>They've spent probably a dozen Saturday nights in this little apartment, reading together. Ianthe wears her best nightgowns to their little tête-à-têtes, and Harrow, who has no imagination, sticks to her head-to-toe black. Softer fabrics than she usually wears to work. That makes it intimate.</p><p>No, Harrow has no business going out on a date. Still less going out with <em> Gideon Nav</em>, a brute with boulders for biceps and a brain to match.</p><p>It makes Ianthe pace the kitchen, unable to lose herself in her studies as she usually does. Harrow will realize the date was a disaster. Harrow will come to Ianthe. The world will right itself.</p><p>But the hours tick by, nine to ten to eleven, and the world does not right itself. Ianthe changes out of her Saturday night clothes and into something that will absorb Harrow's tears, something that won’t stain if Harrow vomits. (This has happened before. Let no one say Ianthe Tridentarius doesn't make an effort when it counts.)</p><p>It's past midnight when keys rattle in the front door. Ianthe leaves the kitchen for her bedroom, counts to three, and tweaks the line of her collar so it shows her bone structure to best advantage. Thus prepared, she emerges. "Harrow," she begins, and stops right there because Harrow has brought her date <em> home</em>.</p><p>They've turned on the light in the foyer. Gideon is helping Harrow out of her coat. Their voices are low enough to be indistinct, but somehow, Harrow <em> laughs</em>.</p><p>Intolerable. Ianthe stalks into the living area, prepared to wait until her apartment is ginger-free. But no, apparently Gideon plans to stay-- apparently Harrow plans to <em> allow </em> this-- because they pad straight past the living area and into the kitchen on stocking feet. Apparently, they both dressed up for the date. Ianthe grudgingly concedes that Nav's suit is well-tailored-- she didn't know she had it in her. But the real marvel is Harrow. It's all black, of course, but she's wearing a gown-- apparently voluntarily-- of a sheer fabric that plunges past her cleavage in a deep V and grows opaque only in strategic locations. Ianthe refuses to believe Harrow wore such a revealing outfit in public: even the long gloves that reach up past her elbows and the thigh-high stockings do not constitute a concession to modesty. This, then, must be Harrowhark Nonagesimus in her underwear, standing brazenly in the kitchen, where she has never before disrobed.</p><p>It's an open-plan apartment, so the kitchen affords them no privacy. Harrow would be mortified if she knew Ianthe was watching her make a fool of herself, but she's too busy touching her date to notice Ianthe exists. (Typical.) Harrow's hands disappear under the fabric of Gideon's blazer around her midsection, and Gideon hops up onto the kitchen counter.</p><p>Her blazer falls the rest of the way open, and Ianthe learns, involuntarily, that Gideon is shamelessly naked under it. The sight of truly excessive abdominal muscles assaults her. (Is that an <em> eight-pack?</em>) And while Ianthe is normally in favor of tastefully exposed nipple, Gideon tits-out in Ianthe's kitchen surely transgresses all boundaries of what one should be expected to put up with from one’s roommate's unwanted date.</p><p>Harrow, on the other hand, apparently <em> appreciates </em> Gideon's wardrobe malfunction. She runs gloved fingers over those washboard abs and lets out a soft sound, like even through a layer of silk Gideon's chiseled physique has robbed her of the capacity for thought. (There's certainly no <em> rational </em> reason for the scene unfolding in the kitchen.)</p><p>Ianthe, who is still adequately clothed, thank you, folds herself down onto the davenport-- <em> her </em> davenport. (She'd taken one look at the broken-down futon Harrow had tried to move in and refused to allow it past the threshold. As a result, the entire living room has real furniture, and it all belongs to Ianthe.) She could say something, of course, but then she'd have to listen to Harrow make those faint strangled noises through the wall. </p><p>Gideon scoots her butt back on the counter to make room so that she can scoop Harrow up onto her lap. Her muscles flex in the low light. (Sitting on counters is unsanitary, Nav-- if this continues Ianthe may have to buy stock in Clorox.)</p><p>Harrow goes easily, straddling one of Gideon's indecently-spread thighs. Is she drunk? But Ianthe has had to haul a drunk Harrow out of dicier situations than this, so Ianthe knows that Harrow gets ornery and belligerent when drunk.  Not unlike the woman currently working her hands up under the bodice of Harrow’s dress, except Gideon never improves when sober. </p><p>But, somehow, Gideon gets to sit there on Ianthe's damn counter, with Ianthe's roommate in her lap. Even more galling: Gideon leans back against the backsplash, and Harrow chases her to claim a kiss. It's a chaste little thing, hardly any tongue. Nav clearly has no idea how to kiss.</p><p>Maybe she knows that, though, because she kisses Harrow's cheek, and then Harrow's jaw, and suddenly Harrow is scrambling with the clasp of her choker so that Gideon can nip at the exposed flesh of her neck. </p><p>Ianthe leans forward. She's never seen Harrow's bare throat-- it's always collars and necklaces and turtlenecks and scarves with her. She even has a voluminous black hooded bathrobe that she wears between her room and the bathroom in the hall.</p><p>Gideon catches her at it. Their eyes meet, amber versus purple, and Gideon's horrible ginger brows go up. A deliberate challenge. Well, Ianthe isn't going to rush in. Ianthe has waited this long. She can wait a little longer.</p><p>She grinds her teeth as Gideon returns her attention to her date. Gideon’s hands on Harrow’s waist and thighs make them look even more delicate than they usually do. Harrow leans into the touch, relaxing even as she presses her body up against Gideon’s. The low buzz of electricity is almost louder than Harrow’s breathy gasps as they make contact.</p><p>It doesn't take long before this consumes Gideon’s attention, gobbling it up in fat bites. Well, Harrowhark Nonagesimus does that to the best of people. Ianthe knows first-hand, and Gideon Nav is definitely not the best. </p><p>From the angle Harrow is clutching at Gideon's back, she has gotten her hands under Gideon's blazer. Ianthe has gotten on the wrong side of Harrow's claws before, and Gideon's back will probably be torn to shreds before this is done. That blazer is white, and the dry cleaning bill to get that stain out will be exorbitant. Ianthe feels smug about it until she realizes there's another option: that Gideon can keep it as a trophy, her triumph written on her jacket in her own blood.</p><p>Ianthe has her own moment of triumph, though: she gets to see the exact moment when Gideon forgets she has an audience. Harrow bows her head, digging her face into Gideon's shoulder, her teeth into Gideon’s neck. Her perfect whimper bounces off the wall and sends electric sensation from the socket of Ianthe's femur down to her knee. Her marrow tingles, pelvis to patella.</p><p>"Hey, baby, I've got you," Gideon whispers into Harrow's hair, loud as shouting in their bone-silent apartment. Her clumsy hands steady the graceful column of Harrow's spine, and Harrow's hips rock forward to press into Gideon's thigh. Ianthe has never seen Harrow move quite like this before-- like she's forgotten to be conscious of every gesture, like the cage of Gideon's arms frees her. (It doesn't. It definitely doesn't. Entangling yourself with another human results in many things, but never freedom.)</p><p>Before long, Harrow gives a sob, muffled in the fabric of Gideon's blazer. She clings, clearly overwrought. (It has fallen halfway off Gideon's other shoulder, the slob.) </p><p>"Was that okay?" asks Gideon.</p><p>Harrow tips her forehead against Gideon's, all dignity apparently lost in the aftermath, because she <em> nuzzles </em> Gideon, nose to nose. "It was perfect." </p><p>She slips off the counter and onto her feet, sliding the straps of her gown back into place. </p><p>Ianthe sits, primly, waiting until those dark eyes alight on her. Waiting until Harrow learns of her precious cavalier's betrayal.</p><p>At last, they catch. "Ianthe," says Harrow. </p><p>Ianthe contains her excitement, with effort. There's an explosion coming. Harrow will be furious. She can't wait. </p><p>"I told you I had a date tonight and that you shouldn't wait up," Harrow continues. "Go away. It's pathetic that you can't see that nothing is ever going to happen between us." </p><p>“Even I thought you had more shame than this when we planned it,” adds Gideon, and then, to Harrow: "Bed? I know you can go again." </p><p>Harrow leans into the circle of Gideon's arm and lets herself be led. </p><p>Ianthe sits there, numb and frozen on the davenport. She never would have believed Harrow had it in her. Well. This calls for a new strategy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick. </p><p>Working title: “wtf Ianthe”, which is frankly an evergreen sentiment. I should have chosen something more unique.</p><hr/><p>I'm <a href="https://twitter.com/jpnadia">jpnadia</a> on Twitter. I'm not super fannish over there, but I do talk about my other creative projects. Come hang out; it's a good time.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>